


Consider the Following

by jaicubed



Category: Youtubers
Genre: M/M, zeath - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-14
Updated: 2017-09-17
Packaged: 2018-12-02 05:39:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11502900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jaicubed/pseuds/jaicubed
Summary: Heath refuses to move into Zane's bedroom, and Zane cannot figure out why.





	1. Chapter 1

Zane walked through the door to their apartment in a great mood. He had just gotten some great footage with Toddy and the guys, and after today’s Coffee Talk, he would be ready to start editing.

“Heath!” he called out, itching to get back on the road and get to K’s. No answer.

He poked his head in Heath’s room. He wasn’t there. What _was_ there were piles of dirty laundry and dishes, and Zane screwed up his nose. Heath would have to address that, like, _today_.

“Heath!” He banged on the door to the bathroom. He didn’t hear the shower running, or Heath cursing as he played Best Fiends on the toilet, like he usually did.

Zane sighed. Maybe he had gone out for a walk? His truck was in the garage, so he couldn’t have gone far.

Zane sent Heath a text before heading into his room to grab a sweatshirt. He had been in such a rush this morning that he had forgotten one, and had frozen his ass off for the past five hours. 

When he saw Heath, sprawled on his stomach and snoring in the middle of Zane’s bed, still in his sweaty gym clothes, Zane’s mood soured a bit.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want Heath in his bed- although he would prefer Heath to not be in it while reeking of the gym- but it was the principle of the matter.

Zane and Heath had been arguing for weeks about one thing, and one thing only: moving out of one of their rooms and finally sharing a bedroom. 

As it stood right now, Heath was essentially paying rent every month to store garbage in his bedroom. He didn’t sleep in there any more. Most of his clothes were strewn across Zane’s floor, and his computer and vlogging equipment were piled on top of Zane’s dresser. Besides a few pieces of furniture, some clothes, and knick-knacks, Heath’s room was empty of all besides empty packs of cigarettes from months ago, take-out containers, and half-finished cans of Celsius.

Zane had brought this up at the beginning of the month in bed one night, his mind on their finances. They were doing okay, but it just didn’t make any sense for them to be paying for two rooms. Kam knew that they were together, as did most of their friend group, so any pretense was unnecessary. If they ditched one room, they could sell the furniture for some extra cash and subsidize all of their rents with another roommate.

Zane made sure to say that he didn’t care _which_ room they chose, so Heath didn’t think that Zane thought his room sucked or anything. Heath was prickly that way. But he did point out that his room was bigger, and he had a better TV.

He had not been prepared for Heath’s response. By the look on Heath’s face, you would have thought that Zane had asked him to move into a cardboard box on La Brea.

“No fuckin’ way,” Heath had said, shaking his head. “Not doing it.”

“Okay,” Zane said carefully, keeping his voice even. “Why not?”

“Because I don’t want to do it.”

Heath then rolled over and ignored Zane for the rest of the evening until he fell asleep.

In Zane’s bed. Not his own. Zane’s.

Zane had tried to bring it up again multiple times throughout the next several weeks, but Heath shut him down every time. Zane was starting to get aggravated and anxious, his mind coming up with a thousand reasons why Heath didn’t want to share a room- all of them bad.

Seeing Heath now, spread out on his bed like he owned it, made all of those feelings come back in full force.

He walked over to his bed and shook Heath’s calf.

“Baby, wake up! It’s coffee time,” he said loudly, as opposed to his soothing, morning wake-up-Heath voice. 

Heath grunted, burying his face in the pile of blankets he was using as a pillow. 

Zane slapped his ass, hard. The smack resounded throughout the room.

“Fuck!” Heath rolled over, wincing. “Fuck, that hurt!”

“Good. Get up, take a shower. Why did you decide to sleep in my bed all nasty?”

“I was tired, and your bed is more comfy,” Heath whined, lifting up his hips so he could pull off his shorts and underwear. He threw them across the room, nowhere near the hamper, and Zane could feel his blood pressure rise.

“Then move into my room,” Zane said through gritted teeth.

Heath glared at him and didn’t respond, getting off the bed and stalking off to the bathroom. His ass was red. Zane didn’t feel bad at all. 

*****

Zane could not believe he had managed to film with Heath without killing him. 

He was good at faking it in the moment, but watching the footage now on his laptop at home, he noticed all the times he had grimaced, forcing himself to laugh at Heath’s stupid jokes. He was just so fucking pissed, and Heath was totally oblivious. 

Zane shut his laptop and left it on the couch, shuffling into his bedroom. He was exhausted and his head hurt. He was definitely going to sleep in tomorrow.

He turned off his light and crawled under his blankets, thanking all that was holy that Heath was still hanging out with Kam in Kam’s room. He couldn’t stand to sleep next to him right now.

Unfortunately, as soon as the thought crossed his mind, he heard Heath pad into the bedroom and close the door. He tensed as Heath yawned, sinking down on the bed beside him and getting under the covers. Zane pretended to be asleep, but Heath still inched over towards him, throwing his arm over Zane’s chest and settling against his side, just like every other night.

Heath fell asleep quickly, puffing air against Zane’s neck. It took Zane much longer.

What the fuck was Heath’s problem?

Financially, it made no sense whatsoever for them to _not_ share a room, considering the circumstances. Heath slept in Zane’s room, showered in Zane’s room, kept his shit in Zane’s room. 

Was Heath afraid he wasn’t going to have enough personal space? Not enough alone time? Zane understood the importance of having one’s own little corner and going away into that corner without anyone else from time to time, but fuck. There were plenty of other spaces inside and outside their apartment for him to be by himself.

DId he think they were moving too fast? If they hadn’t been together for months, roommates for years, and friends since the beginning of time, he would say that was legitimate. But it just wasn’t the case.

Did he think that Zane was trying to control him, keep him under his thumb? That Zane cared more about money than him? Was he planning on breaking up with Zane soon anyway, and he was avoiding moving his stuff twice?

Zane fell asleep almost certain that soon he’d be single.


	2. Chapter 2

Zane let two more months slip by, too busy and too anxious to confront Heath about their situation.

Heath had not broken up with him, as he had feared, nor had he grown distant. If anything, he seemed more comfortable in their relationship than ever before.

And, he continued to sleep with Zane every fucking night (although, at Zane’s threats of bodily harm, he had _thoroughly_ cleaned his own room.)

Zane still felt like he was waiting for the ball to drop. But every time he thought about bringing things up, he was struck with the fear that talking about the bad stuff would make the bad stuff happen. And Heath wasn’t the only one who had gotten more comfortable being “them.”

Fortunately, they had oblivious friends to start the conversation for them.

It was the evening, and Zane had just paid their share of the rent. He felt like he had just put half of it into a shredder. 

He was not in the best mood.

Kam and Matt were hanging with them on the balcony, drinking beer and vlogging a bit. The conversation had turned towards Matt’s living situation and how increasingly petty his landlord had become.

“The passive aggression is unreal,” Mat complained, showing them the texts and emails he had gotten in the past two weeks, including pictures of Matt’s car just inches outside of his designated parking area, and how he “really should take his trash bin in on time.”

“The trash guys come at six am. He sent that at seven fucking thirty,” Matt groaned. 

“That sucks, dude,” Kam sympathized. “You gotta get outta there.”

“Believe me, I’ve been looking. Everything’s just so fucking expensive, so I’d need a roommate. And everyone I know is already living with other people.” Matt sighed.

“If you guys ever need another roommate, let me know. I get dibs,” Matt said, pointing at all of them.

Zane couldn’t let that opportunity slide.   
“Actually,” Zane began, but Heath stared him down.

“Zane,” Heath warned in a low voice.

Matt looked from Heath to Zane. “What? What’s going on?”

Kam looked confused as well, and Zane realized that Heath probably hadn’t shared anything about their arguments. Well, he had to find out sometime. 

“Heath and I have been talking about him moving into my room-”

“No, we haven’t,” Heath cut in.

“-so we might have an empty room here soon,” Zane finished, ignoring Heath’s comment.

Heath shook his head. Zane could see his jaw was clenched tight. 

“Well, that would make sense,” Kam said carefully, his eyes flicking from Zane to Heath. “You’re never in your room anymore, Heath. Might as well save some money.” 

“That’s not the fucking point,” Heath growled, and Zane lost it.

“Then what _is_ the fucking point, Heath? You have not given me one fucking reason to justify spending $1100 a month for a room that you only use to store a shitty TV and some boxers,” Zane argued, his voice hard.

“I don’t need to give you a reason!” Heath shot back, and Matt and Kam jumped in their chairs.

“I pay for the fucking room with my own money, and it’s my choice what to do with it. I could use it just to fart in if I fucking wanted to. I don’t know why you keep making such a big deal out of this! Just drop it!” Heath took an angry sip of his beer.

Zane stood up and threw up his hands. “No, I’m not gonna drop it. Sure, it’s your choice what to do with your room, but it’s _my_ room you’ve been living in for the past four months, and _my_ bank account that pays for all of our other expenses! The least you can do with your only financial contribution is not throw it away on a room that you don’t even use!” 

Zane was livid, so livid that he didn’t realize how cutting that last remark had been until he saw Heath’s face, hurt and anger twisting his features.

“Fuck you, Zane.” He stood up and pushed Zane out of the way so he could go inside.

“I should go,” Matt said awkwardly after a moment of uncomfortable silence. He hurried off the balcony and out of the apartment, closing the door quietly behind him.

“Look, I don’t really want to get in the middle of this, but...that was kind of a shitty thing to say,” Kam commented, avoiding making eye contact by staring intently at the label of his beer bottle.   
“I get where you’re coming from, but there are more important things in the world than money. Heath is working hard to try and get his channel off the ground. He doesn’t need you holding anything over his head.”

Zane sighed, running a hand through his hair. He slumped back down in his chair. “A lot of it is about the money, I’m not gonna lie. But mostly I just don’t fucking understand why he won’t give me a reason, other than ‘I don’t need to give you a reason.’”

“Well, he did,” Kam reminded him. “He pays for the room, so he can do what he wants with it.”

Kam shrugged. “But on the flip side, so can you. If it’s bothering you so much, tell Heath to sleep in his own room.”

“But I don’t want him to sleep in his own room!” Zane said, exasperated. “That’s the whole thing. I don’t fucking get it. There’s plenty of space, plenty of places for him to blow off steam if he needs to, by himself. He can do whatever the fuck he wants, when he wants, I’m not trying to run his life. I just want him to listen to reason.” 

Zane stood up again, pacing the balcony. “I mean, fuck, if he can’t even commit to moving into a room that’s literally ten feet away and where he spends every night anyway, what does that even make us?”

He hadn’t planned on sharing that particular concern with anyone, but it had spilled out, and now it was there to deal with. He felt like a total fucking girl, but it was clear to Zane in that moment that this was the real crux of the matter, more than the money, more than “reason.”

This wasn’t lost on Kam, who looked as uncomfortable as ever.

“Zane, this still feels really fucking weird to say, but...Heath is really, really into you. I don’t know what his deal is, and I don’t know what has been going on with this, but I think you just need to accept that it is a weird Heath thing, and he’ll come around when he’s ready. You know?”

Zane ran a hand over his face. He nodded. “Yeah. I guess.”

Zane went inside. He was preparing a lengthy apology speech in his head, when he heard Heath cursing to himself in Zane’s bedroom.

Zane found Heath picking up his clothes off the floor and shoving them into a laundry basket, along with his computer and camera.

“Heath, what are you doing?”

“Fuck off,” Heath answered, going into the bathroom and coming out with an armful of toiletries. He dumped them on top of his basket before picking the whole thing up and storming out of the room.

“Heath, stop,” Zane called, following him into his bedroom, where Heath was already digging in his closet for clean sheets to put on his bed.

“C’mon, stop for a fucking second and listen to me, please,” Zane pleaded.

“No,” Heath responded angrily, turning on Zane. “I’ve heard enough. I’ve gotten all of my shit out of your room, and I’ll fucking sleep in here from now on so I don’t _throw away_ the only money my poor, pathetic, fucking no-subscriber untalented ass can come up with. Then you won’t have to worry about me being such a fucking financial _burden_.”

“Heath, fuck. I’m sorry about what I said- it was out of line. I was just really fucking angry. I don’t think you’re pathetic, or untalented. Christ, this has gotten so fucked,” Zane said, frustrated. “It started out about money, but that’s not what it’s about now.”

“Sure,” Heath sneered. “Just..get the fuck out of my room.”


	3. Chapter 3

Zane had never felt so miserable or pathetic in his entire life.

He had spent the past week doing everything he could to get Heath to talk to him, but Heath had ignored every knock on his bedroom door, text, call, Facetime, Snapchat, Twitter & Instagram DM, sticky note on his bathroom mirror, note on his windshield….

“You forgot carrier pigeon. And a tin can telephone. Ooh, what about a telegram?” Matt suggested sarcastically. They were sitting on the balcony, drinking coffee, and Zane had just finished telling his sad tale. “We could go across the street, get the construction workers to stay late at night, and use flashlights to message him in Morse code through his bedroom window.”

“Ughh,” Zane groaned. He put his head in his hands. “Stop. Please.”

“No, _you_ stop,” Matt replied, pointing a finger at him. Apparently, Matt’s patience for this sort of thing was thin.

“Obviously, he doesn’t want to talk about it right now. He needs some space. You just need to chill the fuck out.” Matt took a sip of his coffee. “Let’s go to Six Flags. Let’s go on a hike. Let’s do something that doesn’t involve either a: vlogging, which you’ve been doing like crazy all week, or b: obsessing over Heath.”

“I could still do both of those things at Six Flags,” Zane pointed out, and Matt rolled his eyes.

“You could, but you won’t. Because I won’t let you.” Matt put a hand on Zane’s shoulder. “I know you feel guilty, like you fucked up, and sure, you did, a bit-” 

“Wow, thanks for the pep talk,” Zane cut in.

“-but honestly, it seems like there’s more going on here that we just don’t know about. Sure, you hurt his feelings, but you were just really angry, and you’ve apologized. He knows you’re sorry. You’ve got to wait for him now,” Matt finished. 

“But what if I wait forever?” Zane asked, his voice tragic. Matt looked like he wanted to slap him.

“Jesus, Zane, did you grow a vagina in the past week? Actually, that’s insulting to women, because you just sounded more like an aging soap opera character than a real woman.” Matt shook Zane’s shoulder. “Get ahold of yourself. Heath does still, you know, _live here_ , so it’s not like you’re never going to see him again.”

Matt stood up. “Let’s go do something. Like, food. Food first. Please.”

Zane sighed. “Okay, fine. Let me just...text him one more time.”

“Zane, no. For the love of God. Stop.”

“Just one more,” Zane promised, his thumbs already moving over the keyboard.

Matt threw his arms up. “I give up.”

*****

Heath’s phone buzzed in his pocket. He knew who it was before he even looked at the text.

_I miss you._

Jesus, Zane was really turning into a girl.

He shoved his phone back into his pocket and shut his laptop, rubbing his eyes. He was at a cafe in North Hollywood, editing the video he had just shot with Dom. The coffee he was drinking sucked. He wanted K’s so bad, but it was weird to go there without Zane, and... he, apparently, was also turning into a girl.

It was funny, because _not_ wanting to turn into a girl was the reason this had all started in the first place.

When Zane had first suggested that they officially share a room, the “no fuckin’ way” had come out of his mouth before he had even had a chance to think about it. The reaction was just automatic, straight from his gut. He had no idea why he felt the way he did.

For weeks he didn’t know, although he came up with plenty of excuses- none of which he felt very strongly about. 

It wasn’t until he was on the phone with his brother one night that it all became a little more clear.

“Oh man, you remember Jessica, that girl I used to date? The brunette, big tits? Well, I saw her working the cash register at CVS the other day, and she looked awful. Like, hit by a truck or something. I didn’t go to her line, of course, but she was a total bitch to the customer she had. It actually put me in a better mood, though, knowing I’m not stuck with her anymore.”

Heath did remember Jessica. Jessica, at one time, had been the apple of his brother’s eye. Heath remembered him bringing her home for dinner, and talking about her, all the time. 

They had started off as roommates in one of those typical early 20-something living situations, where way too many people were crammed into a too tiny living space. They had become friends quickly, since they both were big potheads, but it took some time for a real relationship to develop.

When it did, it was serious- so serious that Heath’s brother, who had vowed never to leave the party house, started saving up so they could get an apartment, just the two of them. In the meantime, Jessica had swapped rooms with his roommate, so they could share.

Heath remembered the break-up vividly. His brother had been devastated. He had left the party house and moved back home, spending hours alone in his room. It had been scary, seeing him so depressed. The kid had lost almost twenty pounds, and had started smoking cigarettes again. He didn’t talk to anyone. He didn’t do anything he enjoyed. He was basically a fucking shell of a person.

It had been a huge relief when his brother had finally started to recover. It wasn’t until long after the fact that Heath felt he could ask what had happened.

_“Long story,” his brother said, shaking his head. “But I know it all went downhill once she moved into my room.”_

_“But you were dating- wouldn’t you want her to be in your room?” Heath had asked._

_“It’s fine, I guess, when you have a whole apartment together. But when you only have one space of your own, and you have to share that one space, it’s really fucking rough. All these little things you never noticed before that annoy the fuck out of you start to pop up. And you try to talk about it, but you can’t, because you’re doing the same thing to them. For us, it just fucking snowballed, and she turned into a huge bitch. A hurtful, vengeful bitch.”_

Heath had laid in bed after the phone call, his stomach churning. It wasn’t a relief to finally understand why he had been so resistant to Zane’s suggestion. Because all he could think about was what had happened to Jessica and his brother, happening to him and Zane. Starting to hate each other. Breaking up. Becoming depressed and miserable. Never seeing each other again.

That couldn’t happen. 

But Heath also couldn’t tell Zane all of this, either. The thought made him cringe. Because it wasn’t rational. He knew this. He and Zane were two totally different people from his brother and Jessica. But he couldn’t get past it. He couldn’t shake the fear.

So Heath had been avoiding the topic, making up excuses, and going along as they had been, hoping Zane would give up.

But Zane hadn’t. And when Zane had said that shit on the balcony, about putting his _only_ financial contribution to better use...that had stung. It sort of made him forget all of the other stuff. 

It wasn’t a secret that Zane was pulling in more money. He had more subscribers, more influence. And because of this, he often picked up the tabs that Heath just couldn’t.

But on the flipside, they had agreed months ago to pool their finances. And- and this was the important part, the part that had made Heath so angry- Zane could not have gotten where he was now without Heath.

Without Heath, there were no Zane and Heath vines. Without the vines, there was no Youtube, no Coffee Talk, no collabs, no merch, no anything.

Heath knew that Zane worked hard- yes, he could admit it, harder than he did. But that was changing, now that he was working on his own channel. He was putting in more and more hours, and it was paying off. And it hurt that Zane hadn’t noticed. That he thought that Heath was pissing away money, that he was some dumb kid.

But if Zane really thought that, why would he have been so crazy trying to get in touch with him this week? But what if Zane only wanted them back on good terms for the content? Did he care about money, or Heath? Before this room thing, he had been so sure of everything. Now, he was sure of absolutely nothing.

He took out his phone again. 

_I miss you._

It sucked sleeping alone, after months of having Zane’s warm body next to him at night. It sucked not being able to sneak kisses in the kitchen or the hallway. But it really sucked not even having their friendship- the jokes, the hanging out.

Heath had been worried about them breaking up if they shared a room. But was this really any different? Was all this doubt, hurt feelings, and general shittiness any better?

He knew it wasn’t. But he also didn’t know how to move forward. Was too afraid to clear the air, in case what was left behind was just a disaster.

Heath took a breath. He just missed Zane so fucking much.

He read Zane’s texts. He opened the SnapChats. He read the DMs, and listened to the voicemails.

Zane was frantic, apologetic, emotional. But he never really explained himself.

Heath would give Zane a chance. And if it ended badly, well...at least he hadn’t been a pussy.


	4. Chapter 4

“If you move one more goddamn time I’m gonna slit your throat,” Matt threatened, grabbing a strong hold of Zane’s neck.

They were in Zane’s bathroom, standing in front of the sink. Every surface- and Matt and Zane- was covered with a fine layer of dark hair.

“Are we finished yet? It never takes Heath this long,” Zane complained, wiping his forehead. He was nervous and standing still was driving him crazy.

“Almost, bitch,” Matt replied, putting the razor back to Zane’s beard. After three more minutes he turned it off and stood back and surveyed his work.

“You’re done,” Matt declared, tossing the razor on the counter and vigorously brushing off his shirt. “Jesus, Zane, you’re a hairy motherfucker. It’s everywhere. I think it’s in my mouth.” Matt spat in the sink for emphasis.

“You actually did a good job,” Zane said, running a hand over his trimmed beard. “Thanks, man.”

“Don’t say I never did anything for you.” Matt clapped a hand on Zane’s shoulder. “I’m leaving. Take a shower. You stink. And...good luck.”

“I owe you, dude,” Zane said sincerely. Matt had gone above and beyond the call of best friendship today, and no matter how this night went, he was glad he at least had Matt in his corner.

“I know,” Matt replied breezily, giving Zane a salute before heading out of the apartment.

Zane took a deep breath and looked at himself in the mirror. It would have to do.

He cleaned up the bathroom, showered, and brushed his teeth, his anxiety ramping up as each minute passed. He fretted in his closet for fifteen minutes before deciding that he was being ridiculous. Heath didn’t give a shit about his clothes.

He sat on the couch, his knee jiggling. He pulled out his phone and looked at the time. 8:55pm. 

He scrolled through his texts. Kam had replied to his strong suggestion that he spend the night at Meghan’s with a succinct, “K fuckhead.”

Zane opened the conversation below for the thousandth time. Nothing new. Just the one text. 

Be home at 9.

Zane and Matt had been at The Grove eating lunch at Umami Burger when the text from Heath had come in. Zane had stared at the screen for a full twenty seconds.

“I’m not seeing things, right? This is real?” Zane thrust the phone across their table into Matt’s face.

Matt squinted. “Looks like it.” He gave Zane’s arm a quick pat. “See? I told you not to worry.”

“But what does that even mean? Like, is he telling me that he’ll be home at 9, or is he telling _me_ to be home at 9? Why does he want me to be home?”  
Matt rolled his eyes. “You’re over-thinking this. He texted you. That’s a good thing.”

Zane bit his fingernail. “But what if-”

Matt held up his hand. “Stop. Just be home at 9. And let the chips fall where they may.”

Zane had been a wreck all week, sleeping horribly, his stomach churning with anxiety every waking moment. Even if the worst happened, at least he knew where he stood.

Zane nodded and took a bite of his burger. It tasted like shit.

*****

At 9:07, the apartment door opened.

Zane jumped up and shoved his phone in his pocket. Heath dropped his backpack on the ground and kicked the door closed before turning to look at Zane.

“Hi.”

Zane swallowed. “Hi.”

Heath had dark circles under his eyes and his beard was much scruffier than usual. Or, exactly how Zane had looked all week.

They stood in awkward silence for what seemed like an eternity before Heath finally spoke.

“Where’s Kam?” Heath asked. He crossed the foyer to the kitchen, grabbing a beer from the fridge. Zane saw him hesitate before grabbing another.

“He’s spending the night at Meghan’s.” 

Heath nodded and popped the cap off the bottles on the edge of the counter. He crossed the living room and stood in front of Zane, avoiding eye contact but handing him one of the bottles.

“Thanks.” Zane took a swig right away, not realizing how fucking dry his throat had been. He had never in his life been this uncomfortable around Heath. It was a terrible feeling.

After taking a long pull from his own bottle, Heath finally looked at Zane straight on. Zane couldn’t read his expression. For the first time in years, Zane had no idea what Heath was thinking.

Zane had never really understood the phrase “you could cut the tension with a knife” until this moment. He wanted to say something, anything, so that Heath knew how sorry he was. But he couldn’t seem to make any part of his body work, let alone speak.

What Heath did next was surprising, even to Heath himself.

Heath took a breath like he was about to say something. Zane tensed, getting ready for the worst. 

But then, Heath kissed him.

Zane stepped back in surprise, barely managing not to drop the bottle in his hand. When Heath broke the kiss, they were both out of breath. 

Heath didn’t step back, but remained pressed up against Zane’s chest. They were centimeters apart, and Zane could feel Heath’s breath on his lips. It had only been a week, but it was like it had been years. 

Zane guessed that just setting the tension on fire was as good as any other way of getting rid of it.

Heath brushed his hand against Zane’s, grabbing the neck of Zane’s bottle and sliding it out of his hands. He set both of their drinks on the end table next to them. 

Zane inhaled sharply as Heath slid a cold hand under his shirt. Heath’s fingers drew a line from the base of his spine up to his mid-back, before digging his nails in and dragging them down Zane’s back, so hard it was sure to leave marks.

Heath rested his other hand against Zane’s neck before sliding it up into Zane’s hair. He gripped it and tugged roughly, finally closing the space between them and biting Zane’s bottom lip, hard.

In no version of these events that Zane had anxiously imagined for the past week, had he imagined _this_ happening. 

“Go to the bedroom and sit on the bed,” Heath said lowly against Zane’s mouth. “And don’t do anything else.”

Heath pushed Zane away, keeping his face emotionless as he watched Zane hesitate for a second, confusion mixed with arousal on his features. Heath held his gaze, internally pumping his fist when Zane finally turned and walked towards the bedroom.

Heath watched Zane disappear through the door, feeling a strange rush of power. It was pure impulse that had made him kiss Zane, but it wasn’t totally illogical.

Heath turned off all the lights, locked the door, took his time. All of a sudden he had the desire to make Zane sweat it out, make him wring his hands and wonder what was coming next. The part of Heath that knew that this wasn’t the healthiest way to work through conflict also knew that this was _exactly_ what they needed to do.

Heath had had a moment of clarity, pressed against Zane’s chest, feeling his nervous pulse. Besides the emo thing about his brother (which he would never, ever reveal) Heath realized that what had really pissed him off was Zane trying to make all of the decisions for them. Deep down he knew that Zane wasn’t using him for content, or trying to make him feel like shit. He knew that Zane loved him. But Zane also had the bad habit of only seeing his own point of view, using his charisma to gain control until he was on top and you had no idea how it had happened.

If Heath was going to be with Zane, Zane had to know that he couldn’t do that. If Heath was going to share a space with him (and he had pretty much decided he would, although Zane didn’t need to know that yet) Zane would have to know that they were equals.

Heath found Zane sitting on the side of the bed, his hands anxiously fisting the comforter. Zane’s eyes shot to Heath when he walked in, but he didn’t say anything. 

Heath emptied his pockets of his phone and wallet, tossing them on the dresser. He moved around the room, doing his nightly routine, feeling Zane watching him the entire time.

When Heath stood before Zane again, he was only in his briefs, his arms crossed in front of him. He saw Zane’s eyes slide from his lips, to the waistband of his Calvins, to his thighs. 

“Take off your shirt.” Heath was firm, his gaze hard. 

To his (hidden) amazement, Zane didn’t protest. He pulled off his shirt, tossing it to the side. 

Heath admired curve of his shoulders, the bulk of his arms. As much as Heath enjoyed being lifted up and fucked into oblivion by that body, tonight that was not going to happen.

“Stand up.” _You’re not my boss_.

“Don’t make a sound.” _You’ll never control me_.

Heath’s hand slid under the waistband of Zane’s jeans, his nails digging into his hip bone. He dragged his hand back up Zane’s torso, leaning closer so that he could wrap his arms around Zane’s neck. 

He felt Zane’s hands brush his hips, and he grabbed a handful of Zane’s hair and pulled. “Don’t touch.”  
Zane’s hands dropped to his sides. Heath pressed his chest into Zane’s and blew softly on Zane’s ear. He licked a stripe down Zane’s throat to his collarbone, biting it hard.

Heath could feel Zane tense up, could hear him grit his teeth. Heath pressed kisses along Zane’s jaw until he was hovering millimeters above Zane’s lips. He could feel Zane instinctively trying to close the distance between them, but he pulled Zane’s head back by the hair, squeezing his neck roughly with his other hand.

He could feel Zane thrumming with arousal, his cock fattening up in his jeans.

Even though Heath usually took the lead in the bedroom, as far as getting things going, Zane tended to take over once things got heated. Zane _hated_ to be teased, and he knew that it was driving Zane crazy that he couldn’t do what he wanted.

Heath luxuriated in the feeling of Zane’s body heat, running his hands over his back, his arms, the soft hair on his chest, all the while keeping his lips just out of reach. 

Zane swallowed loudly, his biceps rippling as he balled his fists up tightly. Heath ground his pelvis into Zane’s, the cool metal of Zane’s belt leaving a mark on Heath’s belly. 

Zane couldn’t touch, or speak, and he was falling apart. Heath knew that this was ten times more effective at keeping Zane in line than handcuffs, or a whip, or anything else he could pull out of a bedroom drawer. 

He pushed Zane so that he fell onto the bed on his back. He motioned for Zane to go in the middle of the bed.

Heath took off his briefs and climbed on to the very expensive new mattress, crawling over so that he was straddling Zane’s thighs. 

He slowly undid Zane’s belt, then the button, the the zipper of his jeans, making sure to “accidentally” touch his dick with every movement.

Zane was flushed, and Heath could tell he was getting aggravated. Good.

Heath grasped the waistband of Zane’s jeans and underwear, sliding down Zane’s legs and pulling the clothing down with him, allowing Zane to lift his hips to help.

He straddled Zane’s thighs again, ignoring his cock, but leaning forward so that his elbows rested besides Zane’s head, their chests pressed together.

Zane was rapt with attention. Heath had never seen Zane look at him like that, and it was fucking incredible.  
“Listen to me,” Heath murmured. “Don’t speak.”

Zane nodded, his eyes wide.

“I don’t want to have a mushy heart-to-heart. I think we’ve both had enough time to think and know where we were right and wrong, logical and...not logical.” Zane nodded slightly.

“So I’ll keep it brief. I’ll move into this room. On three conditions.” Heath pressed his lips against Zane’s ear.

“You never use money to manipulate me ever again.” Zane closed his eyes, and Heath could feel his shame. 

“You understand that what I want is just as important as what you want.” 

Heath moved so he could see Zane’s face. “Open your eyes.” Zane complied, his expression earnest and repentant.

“And, you always know...that in here, _I’m_ in control.” Zane licked his lips and nodded.

“If you agree, say, ‘I agree.’”

“I agree,” Zane said immediately, his voice deep and breathless.

“Tell me you’re sorry.”

“I’m sorry.” 

Heath nodded, letting the corners of his mouth turn up slightly. He knew Zane was being sincere. And he knew that Zane had received the appropriate punishment.

Heath kissed Zane roughly, and he could hear Zane suppress a growl deep in his throat.

“You can speak,” Heath whispered. “And, you can touch.”

In a millisecond Heath was on his back, enveloped by heat. In _their_ bed. In _their room_.


End file.
